


Target Practice

by celeste9



Category: Primeval
Genre: Gen, Gift Fic, Guns, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-12
Updated: 2014-01-12
Packaged: 2018-01-08 10:54:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1131805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celeste9/pseuds/celeste9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The thing about zombies, Becker thought, was they were slow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Target Practice

**Author's Note:**

> For eriah211's Fandom Stocking. Also for 'pack' in Primeval Denial's bingo.

The thing about zombies, Becker thought, was they were slow. Easy targets, shuffling along. It was like target practice. Now, normally Becker liked a challenge. This time, though… he’d take the zombies and their sluggish, rambling gait.

Because there was a sodding horde of them.

The blast of his shotgun into another brain made a satisfying, squelching thud.

“They don’t seem to be stopping,” Danny said, sitting back against the barricade to reload his Glock.

Becker fired another shot. Another zombie fell. “There’s no need to sound so cheerful about it.”

Danny grinned. “What, like you’re not enjoying yourself? You can’t tell me you aren’t enjoying this.”

Becker’s mouth twitched. “I’m not enjoying this.”

“Liar,” Danny said, still cheerfully, and blew a zombie’s head off.

This was easily the strangest thing they’d ever encountered on the other side of an anomaly. An actual zombie apocalypse, their own personal, real life reenactment of _The Walking Dead,_ minus the annoying civilians.

No idea what had started it, which was why Danny and Becker were stuck there for the time being. Connor said if it was a virus, they could be infected. They couldn’t risk it, not until they had more to go on.

Lester really didn’t want a zombie apocalypse of his own.

So they were having target practice on the herd of zombies. Becker supposed that, if he were a better person, he might be sad about it. All those dead people. People had loved them, once.

But, you know, he wasn’t the sentimental type. They were dead and they wanted to eat him. The math was pretty simple.

He knew that if the others didn’t figure something out soon, eventually, even with the zombies’ glacial pace, they were going to get overwhelmed. There were only so many he and Danny could shoot at once, and their ammo supply wasn’t unlimited. He wondered how easily his knife would sink into their rotted heads.

But that was something to worry about when they had to. For the moment - target practice.

Becker aimed carefully and fired, the bullet going through one zombie’s head to lodge in the brain of the one behind it.

He absolutely wasn’t enjoying this.


End file.
